The Secret
by RemedyChill
Summary: Rogue finds herself facing an inherited 'real world' mystery. Can you solve it before she does? Finished story! Please r/r - and enjoy!
1. The Secret Ch1 Jean

The Secret

Chapter One: Jean

Jean was falling, face first, toward the ground. She reached out with her powers but they didn't respond, and the earth continued to rush up towards her.

An insane fear swept through her. She was going to die.

She locked her fingers around something in her left hand and reached up to wipe her eyes with her right. A breeze ran through her and she realized it was raining, and she was drenched.

The world was coming faster now, a majestic expanse made fatal by gravity. _I am going to die!_

For a moment everything seemed to go quiet. Then, with a brilliant flash, the thunder tore around her on all sides and it shook her strait through to the bone.

As she lunged forward, she woke up.

The Dream came to Jean once a year on the same date. It had for years now, almost since she discovered her powers.

After that, if she fell back to sleep, she would find herself safely on the ground. Still in the pouring rain, but traveling by foot and exhilarated, occasionally taking a moment to watch as distant lights played through the dense forest night. Somehow she was aware that they were searching for her and that it was funny.

Once a year she would wake like this and once a year she was convinced – These were real memories, just not hers.

Then, the next day, her faith would waver and her mind would turn to other matters and the dreams, if dreams they were, would be forgotten for another year.

And so it was that, once again, Jean awoke with a shock. Her heart raced and the sheets were wet with sweat. She exhaled slowly and laid her hand on her rapidly beating heart.

She had felt similar exhilaration in the memories of Wolverine. This memory felt like him too; Nothing to loose and acting out. But there is a more reserved air to the dreams. _Maybe he was younger then_. She reasoned.

A moment later she was in the bathroom, splashing warm water on her face and then toweling off. She leaned back against the wall.

She closed her mind to all distractions as she closed her eyes and she felt herself begin to resonate with her internal power. The soft internal hum was a comfort to her. She disliked the dream. It made her feel weak. 

She rose silently from the floor and hung there in mid-air. _No,_ she need not fear the fall. 

Telekinetically, she was in control. But telepathically, she wasn't sure. Where had she picked up this memory? Why did she still have it?

Maybe it was time to admit she needed help. Maybe it was time to talk to Xavier and ask his council.

But somewhere inside her a small knife began to turn. _Haven't I tried that before?_ She wasn't sure. She didn't remember.

If she had, it obviously hadn't merited too much attention, hence the current dilemma.

"Okay Jean, pull yourself together." She said, straitening herself in the mirror. 

She took two deep breaths, lowered herself back to the floor and put on a sly smile, just in case anyone was in the hall outside. She need not have bothered. They were all still asleep.

Or so it seemed.


	2. The Secret Ch2 Rogue

The Secret

Chapter Two: Rogue

Rogue sat quietly at the edge of her bed. Bad dreams came with the territory when you absorb other peoples memories. After a while, unless they're re-occurring, you just dismiss them. After you're done shaking, crying and occasionally screaming.

But Rogue particularly disliked this memory.

It was Jeans.

Rogue found herself standing on the stairs of some tall building's fire escape. It was raining and dark so she couldn't make out more than the metal stairs in front of her. Something was tied tightly around her waist.

She was vaguely aware of a voice behind her, perhaps speaking to her, but she had tuned it out. 

She was aware only that people were coming after her, and she had to go down these stairs to get away.

But the stairs seemed to end far too early. Maybe they should have wrapped around the corner, or continued down, but they did not.

They stopped short.

And Rogue, feeling like and seeing herself as Jean, stepped on to the last step and slipped.

"No!" She cried out harshly as her legs shot out from under her. She lashed out with one hand. Briefly she caught the metal handrail, but for some reason, her first thought was of fingerprints, and she let go instinctively and irrationally, realizing that she had left them anyway.

__

Surely the rain will . . .

But that was all she had time for, as the horror of slipping out in to that wild and stormy night was just too much for her.

And she found herself sitting up, her legs hanging off the side of the bed, but afraid to stand up off the bed for fear of falling.

"Stupid." She chided herself, standing up just to dispel the fear, but hugging herself closely just the same.

And then she looked at the clock. It was still early. Early enough that she should go back to bed unless she wanted to drag herself through the afternoon and evening.

She pulled herself in, under the blankets, and closed her eyes. Almost immediately, she was asleep and dreaming again.

But it was different this time. She was still falling, still drenched and cold, but it was controlled. _Jean must have caught herself with her powers._ She thought.

The earth was climbing slowly and steadily towards her, visible only in the occasional lightning. Her entire focus was on the ground. She was aiming to put herself down in a creek, surrounded on all sides by trees and wilderness.

Then almost too quickly, she was on the ground. She banged one knee, and it hurt, but she laughed out loud as the thunder rolled and lightning flashed across the sky.

Something was wrong. The echo didn't sound like Jean. The echo sounded like a man's laughter.

But she had no time to consider this. She had gotten tangled in some form of spider web or clothesline and had to fight to extricate herself. And that meant letting go with her left hand.

She looked purposefully and intently toward the green duffel bag in her hand. She set it down on the bank of the creek. She wanted to tear it open and laugh in mad, naked delight at her success.

But, first things had to come first. And a moment later, she was free of the rope and clutching the bag with both hands as she checked her compass and began heading out of the woods.

A soft humming rose up out of the night and became overpowering in pitch and volume. When it had Rogues full attention here eyes flew open and focused on the clock. It was her alarm. It was time to get up.


	3. The Secret Ch3 Kurt

The Secret

Chapter Three: Kurt

"Okay." Bobby was red faced from laughing. "Do this one Kurt." He changed the channel on the television. "It's That 70's Show."

"Vay too easy." Kurt let loose a wide grin. "I'd be Fez, Scott would be Eric and Jean would be Donna. Kitty would be Jackie and I guess dat vould mean Kelso vas . . . Lance!" 

Bobby and Jamie exchanged quick glances between them before bursting out laughing.

"I told you so." Kurt smiled. "Ve X-Men could be on any of those shows."

Bobby snorted. "Right Kurt. Mutants on t.v.- And _not_ on the news?" He sounded like a disbeliever. "Like that'll ever happen."

Kurt shrugged.

Bobby flipped the channel again. It was the news. "… Of course marks the anniversary of the daring 1971 ... "

He flipped the channel again and looked to Kurt imploringly. "I thought the parade was on."

"Channel twelve." Kurt told him, looking up to see Rogue coming downstairs. She looked uneasy.

"I'll be right back." Kurt flashed a smile and vanished with a 'Bamph'.

"He's really funny." Jamie said, wiping his eyes. "He made me laugh until I cried."

Bobby took his water bottle and chilled it slightly before taking another swallow. "That's for certain. I almost died laughing when he did 'Green Acres'."

They exchanged glances before speaking in unison. "…as Arnold – the pig!" And they burst out laughing again.

"If Scott's Eric Foreman than wouldn't it stand to reason that his Dad, Red Foreman, would be Professor X?" Jamie wondered out loud.

"I guess so." Bobby went for another sip of his drink.

"Could you see the Professor calling Scott a _Dumb-ass_?" Jamie asked.

And Bobby spit his drink, laughing.

Kurt bamfed out to the back yard and cut Rogue off at the pass.

"Hey sis, Happy . . ." He began, but her look told him to 'stuff it'. "Vat's wrong?" He asked.

Rogue was about to snap at him but she thought better of it. Finally she exhaled and crossed her arms over her chest.

Kurt took this as an opportunity to practice his 'little brothering'. "Ahh, so ve don't vant to talk about it. That's okay. I can talk enough for the both of us. I just saw an hour long History of Concrete on the Education channel. I'd love to tell you all about it." He smiled enthusiasticly. "And before that they was a whole hour on Felt."

"Felt?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Ya, you know, the fabric?" He seemed enthusiastic and puffed his chest out like the hero of an old western "I am burdened to know things about felt that no one should have to bear alone." He turned and looked slyly at her.

She was smiling.

Kurt dropped the posturing and the posing. "Or you could make me really happy and let me know vat's wrong." He cocked his head to one side, ever so slightly.

Rogue smiled again. "I was having Jean's dreams last night." She said softly. "Ah think it was a residual from when I slipped in to my coma last month – after all that 'Mezmero and the stolen rings' stuff that happened." (See Vacancy – by the same author)

"I do remember." He looked sheepish.

"Well, it was just weird." Rogue pulled her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. "And uncomfortable."

Kurt nodded sympathetically. "Vas it a nightmare?"

"Ah don't know. I fell off these metal stairs, like a fire escape. And then I woke up, but when I fell back to sleep, I was levitating down towards the ground. I hit it hard and then I ran off, laughing down my sleeve at the people who were chasing me."

Kurt considered. "Are you sure it vas Jeans dream? I mean, why wouldn't she just fly away?"

Rogue thought about it. "Because it's just a dream I guess."

Kurt shrugged. "I teleport in my dreams. I think it would be unnatural if I didn't."

Rogue wondered for a moment. "Ah don't touch people in mah dreams." She realized. "But I always figured that was . .."

"Habit?" Kurt asked.

"Ahhh, yeah." She agreed, seeing the light.

"So vhy vouldnt Jean fly away?" Kurt shrugged.

Rogue cast a glance over her shoulder toward the mansion and then back to Kurt. "Maybe you should ask her." A subtle light seemed to hover behind Rogues eyes. "Just do it . . . A little sneaky?" Rogue was asking for a favor.

Kurt smiled a little too wide, a little too quick, and flashed his fangs at her. Every so often he would do something small like that and look utterly frightening. Rogue just breathed through it and tried not to give off any signs that it bothered her. She didn't want it to bother her, but it did.

"I believe in a persons right to privacy." He informed her. "It comes from looking like the Devil." He smirked at her coyly. "Let me see vat she wants to share on the subject." He winked at her once and disappeared.

"If I did have a brother . . ." Rogue whispered towards the mansion, but instead of finishing she just took a shallow breath and was surprised to hear herself say, simply, "Thank you."

And she began to cry.


	4. The Secret Ch4 Scott

The Secret

Chapter Four: Scott

Scott stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He loved the smell of the Professor's leather couches, and – just to look busy, he would wander the library staring at the many pictures that dotted the walls.

Of course, lots of people spent their time looking at the professors art collection or the oil paintings and sculptures he has positioned throughout the mansion. But Scott had long ago tired of them. They were just someone else's fantasies so far as he was concerned. 

Instead Scott liked the photographs, and if you knew where to look, there were actually quite a few framed photo's around the mansion.

Scott's favorite photo's were the old black and white ones. One showed Xavier in a white lab coat, shaking hands with his then friend Eric who would go on to become Magneto. In the photo though, they were smiling and affectionate. 

Another of the black and white photo's showed Xavier, nestled in the branches of a tree with a long haired woman in his lap. They were laughing, waving, and holding each other. 

Scott loved the old black and white photo's, there was no doubt, for one reason alone. In all the black and white photo's, Xavier could still walk.

There were two color pictures of Xavier (that Scott knew of) before his accident.

One was of the Professor standing in line at Portland International Airport. He wore a long dark trench coat and stood below a sign that read "Gate 52". It was a small square photo with a flat finish and the poor, faded color one would expect from the late 60's or early 70's.

The professor had hung it in a small alcove. No one would know it was there unless they had happened to sit in the one spot where Xavier liked to park his chair to read his newspaper.

If you looked real careful, as Scott always did, you could see that Xavier had hand written along the bottom of the photo "Of all things owed to family." Of course, this was half hidden by the frame.

The second color picture of Xavier was Scott's favorite. It was Xavier in a gold colored hard-hat, holding a gold plated shovel at the groundbreaking ceremony for the mansion. He was grinning like a mad-man.

"Scott?" Jean had eased up behind him. "What are you . . . I've never seen this before." She was captivated by the picture. "He looks so happy."

"Thankful." Scott told her. 

She studied the face in the picture. She could see delight, exuberance and enthusiasm. But anything beyond that escaped her. 

Scott reached out his hand and she took it, lacing her fingers with his. 

"Can you guess what I'm thankful for this year?" He asked her playfully.

Jean half rolled her eyes and glanced away before turning her attention back to him. "I know what I'm thankful for." She replied.

"Happy Thanksgiving Jean." He whispered, leaning in and kissing her softly.


	5. The Secret Ch5 Beast

The Secret

Chapter Five: Beast

Hank McCoy pushed his glasses up, so they set properly on his nose, and opened his newspaper. A delicate china cup held a moderately sweet tea that often made him think of a woman he dated back in college.

Hank inhaled deeply and had to look around his paper toward the open door that led in to the hall. The great house was slowly filling with the enticing aroma of roast bird. Hank licked his lips distractedly. Thanksgiving in the Xavier house was always an elaborate and catered affair. Eventually, when everyone was awake and impatiently awaiting dinner, they would spill out on to the lawn.

Frisbees, footballs, fireworks and food promised to fill the evening with smiles, laughter and groans of gluttony

Suddenly, as he sipped his tea, the news and his memories were not enough. It was all filtered life. And he wanted the real thing.

He stood up and crossed over to the windows to look down on the lawn below. Rahne and Jubilee were playing Frisbee already. 

Or to be more specific, Jubilee was throwing the Frisbee and Rahne, in her wolf form was chasing it down and bringing it back.

Hank felt himself smile. _What a great way to spend a day of your youth. _He thought as she took off across the lawn at a full and frightening speed, hanging just an inch behind the disk the entire way, until it slowed, ever so slightly, and she snatched it with a K-9 smile and a snort of satisfaction.

__

Yes! He laughed to himself_. Nice catch!_

Hank smiled again as Jubilee looked up toward the window and waved. He waved back and she turned her attention back to her wolfen friend.

"Come on Rahne, let's have it." He heard her say as she tried to snatch the disk from the playful little wolf girl. Rahne in response struck the classic 'playful puppy' pose that tempted Jubilee to try to snatch the disk back. She managed to get a hold of it, but Rahne refused to let go.

"Come on. Give it up.' Jubilee protested, but Rahne just thrashed her head and made Jubilee turn loose her grip.

"Oh, that's it." Jubilee laughed, making a fist and letting her plasma discharges erupt between her fingers as a warning. "You are so dead.' She told Rahne.

Rahne in turn growled lowly and made her eyebrows rise and fall tauntingly.

Hank turned away before the real game began. He had a feeling that what was to come next was best kept 'off the record' and therefor, away from the eyes of the staff.

__

But that's what I want to do with myself today. He realized. _Live – out loud!_

And he stopped short on his way out the door. He had to laugh at himself for a moment. It had been a long time since he went, in his own words, _looking to get in to trouble_.

He sauntered down the hall, casting his eyes over anyone he ran across, and then down the front staircase. A caterer was picking up a stack of boxes at the bottom of the stairs.

"Careful there. " Hank cautioned him, steadying the boxes in his arms.

"Thanks." He said distractedly and without looking.

And then he noticed what Hank looked like.

A slow and quiet calm seemed to envelope him as he looked Hank in the eye. "Really. Thanks." He said sincerely.

"Don't mention it." Hank smiled at the strange little man. "Are you alright?"

"Sure." The man answered quickly then paused. "I just don't know that I've ever met a real mutant before. I was just thinking this was a cool way to have finally gotten around to it." He shrugged. "Like I said, thanks again." And he began to lumber off toward the kitchen with his many packages.

"Cool indeed." Hank agreed softly to himself, watching him go.

"Hello Hank. Happy Thanksgiving." Xavier rolled up next to him.

"Oh, Professor. Good …" Hank checked his watch. "Afternoon . And, Happy Thanksgiving." He smiled and opened the front doors so they could look out across the lawn.

Jubilee was sprinting madly toward the side of the house, holding what looked like a half-melted, smoldering plastic triangle and laughing wildly. A moment behind her was a snapping, snarling, ferocious wolf, running with her tongue hanging out, clearly showing her exhaustion, but refusing to quit the game.

"I see everything's off to a good start." Xavier smiled as Rahne too passed out of view and in to the side yard. A moment later the air filled with the sounds of distant explosions and shrieks of laughter, followed by a loud splash.

"Pool or Lake?" Hank asked with a smirk.

"Lake." The Professor guessed. "There would have been more echo around the pool." He smiled. "From the explosions."

"Ah. Yes." Hank turned his attention back to the view. 

"It's hard to believe sometimes." The Professors voice was soft, low and distant. 

"What is?" Hank asked in an intimate tone.

"Everything, really." He smiled but remained distant. "Jubilee and Rahne, born on different continents, playing on my lawn." Beast could tell he was being metaphoric somehow but he couldn't catch it. "On a lawn I built so many years ago with my inheritance." He smiled as though a memory pained him. "How many good friends I am without because of our divided politics." Xavier set his jaw for a moment. "And how on some days, and at special moments, you can truly be grateful, thankful, and respectful for every moment of your life. Both good and Bad."

"That's a rare gift Charles." He whispered to his friend. "You're a very lucky man."

"Oh, I know." He smiled as the distant tree-line began to sway in a gentle breeze. "Believe me. I know."

And he spun his chair to face Hank directly. "And I also know that we make our own luck." He flashed a crafty grin "We have to. We use up our natural allotment too quickly at times."

"At times." Beast agreed. He leaned nonchalantly on the doorframe. 

"So what are you planning on doing with the rest of your day?" Xavier asked, staring out the door again at the fine, manicured lawn.

"I was actually looking for trouble when you found me." Hank confessed. "I suspect I'll go find some as soon as you're out of sight again."

"Capital idea." Xavier smiled at him. "It's should probably be listed somewhere as the official Thanksgiving Day Tradition of the X-Men. Good luck, and, Happy hunting."

Hank chuckled despite his best efforts not to.

"And you Charles, got any plans?" He wondered.

"No." Xavier smiled, looking out across the lawn "I worked and planned away my last Thanksgiving a long time ago. That's why I hire the caterers." He sighed. "No. Now, my sole interest is in seeing this lawn fill up with children who will all sleep soundly tonight."

"God Bless you Charles." Beast said, almost without thinking.

"Oh, he has." Xavier assured him. "And I know he has."


	6. The Secret Ch6 Jean and Kurt

The Secret

Chapter Six: Jean and Kurt

Kurt walked, on his hands, up the wide concrete railing that ran along the back patio of the Xavier mansion. He had seen Jean stroll out and seat herself a few moments before.

Technically, she was waiting for Scott. But rationally, she was just enjoying the clear morning air, as a wonderful contrast to the dark, rain filled skies of the dream. _Maybe later I could get in a little flying . . ._

"Hello!" Kurt waved with the spade of his tail as he passed before cart-wheeling down on to his feet. "Happy Thanksgiving." He bowed politely. 

"Happy Thanksgiving Kurt." She smiled genuinely.

He cocked his head. "Penny for your thoughts?" He ventured.

She eyed him warily. "Why did you ask that?"

"You looked very far away just now." He nodded once and smiled. "My mirror gets that look sometimes when I'm not around." He told her.

She pursed her lips in good humor. "I was thinking about flying. That maybe later on I would go flying."

Kurt spun on his heel and cast his eyes up toward the sky. It was clear and empty. "Dat vould be something." He breathed at last before tossing her a dashing smile. "No amount of acrobatics can teach a person vat it's like to fly." He said dreamily.

He seemed to wake from that dream slowly. "Dey do teach you how to fall though." He smiled. "Mostly, down." He turned a backward handstand on to the railing.

"You're certainly in a good mood." Jean noticed.

"It's been a good day so far." He shrugged – which meant he did an upside-down pushup. "and it's my first Thanksgiving."

"It is?" Jean hadn't known.

"American holiday." He said, taking a few careful steps (still on his hands) down the rail. "But I hear it's delicious." He smiled and vaulted back on to his feet before easing down in to one of the lounge chairs that faced Jean. "I saw a whole show about it on the learning channel." He said. "About how the Puritans outlawed decadent Christmas dinners and so they moved the old English menu to the new holiday."

"Really?" Jean said "I never heard that."

"Da." He smiled. "The smell inside is already making me crazy." He sighed. "I'll dream well tonight." He nodded. "A full belly does it every time." He thumped his thick finger on his taught stomach, making a hollow sound.

Jean smirked. The elf certainly was good company.

"I did all my dreaming last night." She said absently.

"Hows dat?" He asked, almost distractedly, but showing her his undivided attention.

"I had this dream last night." She shrugged. "I _think_ I have the same dream _every_ year."

"Really?" He sat up, kind of surprised.

"Yeah." She bit her lower lip. "But I'm not sure it's a dream." She shook her head "This morning I thought . . ."

"Thought what?" He said quietly, sincerely interested.

She looked at him, directly in the eye. "I was sure it was a memory." She said "Someone else's memory. Maybe Wolverines."

"Vat vas dis dream?" He asked slowly.

"I was falling, in the rain, without my powers." She found herself amazed at how easy Kurt was to talk to. "I couldn't stop myself." She swallowed. "I thought I was going to die."

Kurt nodded. "So you vanted to go flying later." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah." She agreed before continuing "And then I always wake up."

Kurt seemed to process this.

"And I have this dream every year" She suddenly looked exhausted. "And if I had gone back to bed this morning, I would have gone right back in to it, and spent the morning running through the woods from the lights in the distance."

"And you don't know what it's about, or who's memory it really is?" Kurt was surprised.

"No clue." She surrendered.

"Wow." Wheels were spinning in his head without anything to take tread on. "So you've been up since early this morning?" He realized.

Jean yawned. "Yeah. Too long." She shook her head. "I'll need a nap before dinner." 

"Did you ever ask Wolverine if the memory was his?" Kurt suddenly wondered.

Jean looked shocked at the idea. "You know, I never thought about it before, but I never really mention it to anyone." She smiled at him. "You're really easy to talk to."

Kurt smiled and shrugged. "It's a gift." He told her, thinking of Rogue. "And a curse." He added, realizing that Jeans honesty and her confession of fear, were entrusted to him, and that he could pass them no further.

"Where's Scott?" Kurt suddenly wondered out loud.

Jean laughed. "He's trying to help the caterers set up the expresso machine." She shot his a sly smile. "But I wouldn't go in there. It's probably not safe."

Kurt smiled down at her as he stood up. "Sleep sweet Jean." He told her.

"Thanks Kurt." She smiled back. "I will."

Kurt bowed again politely and did a ferocious back flip up in to the air. He landed soundlessly on the railing, this time on his feet before bending backwards far enough to grab the rail and letting his legs rise up in to the air, before walking away on his hands, and waving goodbye with his tail.

Jean giggled at him. "Happy Thanksgiving Kurt." She called after him.

"Yeah." He smiled and upside-down grin at her. "You too." He called back.

Kurt took two more hand-steps down the railing before vaulting on to the walkway below. 

Rahne ran by in her wolf form, soaking wet and casting devious glances from side to side as she walked.

"Don't look now." Kurt whispered out of the side of his mouth. "But Jubilee's sneaking from tree to tree over there, down-wind of us." He motioned with his eyes.

The little wolf girl broke in to a wide grin. She lowered her head politely and woofed once, soflty.

"You're velcome." Kurt bowed back.

And Rahne turned on a dime and took off on a run, pounding the earth beneath her toward the distant trees.

A moment later there was a shriek, a chase, a burst of light, and a flurry of growls, barks, and playful snapping – Followed by another shriek and the kind of splash that can only be made by a girl in a yellow coat falling in to a pool.


	7. The Secret Ch7 Rogue and Scott

The Secret

Chapter Seven: Rogue and Scott

"Oh, hi. Rogue. Happy Thanksgiving." Scott tried to smile but it wavered off his face. 

"Good morning." She grumbled. "Happy Thanksgiving." She fought the urge to yawn until she could fight it no more. "Excuse me." She said.

"No problem." He smiled, and dropped a chrome valve of some sort.

"What's that?" Rogue asked.

"It's ahhh, …"

"You don't know, do you?" Rogue asked, finally feeling in a true good humor for the first time today.

"No." He agreed quickly. "There was ahhh, were, um … a few things happened . . ." He was gesturing backwards toward the kitchen. Rogue leaned around him and cast a glance through the door. Two of the caterers were working up a sweat trying to unthread a long chrome pipe from what is obviously the wrong connection on the side of the steam tank.

Scott tossed the valve back in to the kitchen, on to one of the counter tops.

"Have you signed the book yet?" Scott asked.

"Book?" Rogue looked at him sideways.

He looked amused. "Come on." He said. "I'll show you."

They strolled down the long, quiet hall towards the library. "Right over here." He said.

And there it was. In an alcove, practically alone, was a very old book.

"The Professor started this book back in the early seventies, even before he built the mansion." He explained as he flipped to the beginning of the book. "Right after his mother died, I think." 

He found what he was looking for.

"I am Thankful for the strength to walk in to the darkness and return to the light." The page read. And scribbled beneath it were the initials CFX and the date. 

"The Professor keeps the book covered with a glass case all year long, then, on Thanksgiving, he opens the case and lets anyone add what they want." Scott smiled. "Isn't that cool?"

She smiled politely. "Yeah." And then rather grimly. "I suppose it's better when you've got more to be Thankful for."

Scott swallowed hesitantly.

"You know," He began. "When the Professors mother died, his Step-Father, the Juggernaught's real father tried to steal the Professors inheritance." He had her full attention. "He had to invoke a contractual clause that was in her will – he had to start his own business and make one hundred and fifty thousand dollars within six months to claim the full inheritance."

"What?" She had never heard anything like that.

"And he did it too." Scott told her. "By playing the stock market – from home - so you know – he did it on his own – without using his powers. He just followed the market and played it smart."

"So?" She asked, unsure of his point.

"So, when he wrote that in the book he was _poor_. His stepfather had all his inheritance tied up and he was starting with nothing to try to reclaim it."

Rogue cast her eyes back to the black ink, scrawled in the book. She could almost feel the grief, anger, and determination of that day. The loss of a mother was something she could understand.

"Being Thankful for what you have Rogue, has almost nothing to do with getting what you want." He smiled sheepishly. "Take a look through it if you like." He shrugged. "I think they need me in the kitchen." And with that he was gone.

Rogue laid her hand on the book, and she felt suddenly sick with anger and fury. She remembered this feeling. It was Cain Marko – the Juggernaught. This was what his mind felt like.

She closed her eyes and _was_ him suddenly, laughing with his father. "Oh yeah, I got it." She said. "I cleaned out the whole safe." She laughed again. "Xavier's finally getting what he deserves." She heard herself say as she began to fight to regain her senses.

__

Nothing! . . . The word floated through her mind, followed by a trailing laughter. She felt better as it passed. She swallowed and steeled herself against the sickness of the memory. Why had she recalled it? What did it mean?

Rogue flipped the book towards the middle, where it was far more current. A page from two years ago stood out to her.

"I am Thankful for the chance to do good with my life." The slanted, sharp letters underneath read "Logan." With a slight flourish on the end of the 'n'. The upper corner of the page held a sweat ring, left by his can of beer as he had written his inscription.

"That's a good one." She told herself out loud, running her fingers over the page.

She took a deep breath and shook off the last of the Marko Cobwebs in her mind. She stepped back slowly from the book_. Maybe someday_. She told it mentally. _Maybe Someday_.


	8. The Secret Ch8 Kurt and Logan

The Secret

Chapter Eight: Kurt and Logan

Logan lay comfortably in the hammock. His boots sat on the ground beside him and his hat was pulled down over his eyes. Still, he spoke before Kurt could really get close to him.

"Hey Elf. Dinner ready?" He said without moving.

"No. Not for hours." Kurt put his hand to his stomach and imagined it moaning and empty.

"Well, come back and let me know when it's ready, and not before."

Kurt hesitated. "Ahh, sure. Sorry." He went to retreat.

"Oh, now you've done it." Wolverine suddenly said, moving for the first time and sitting up, pushing his hat off his eyes.

"Done vat?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and wavered toward blind panic and hasty retreat.

"Well," He looked uncomfortable "You know I've got a good nose on me." He looked serious

"Vat do you get off me?" Kurt was smiling now, wondering what the nose could truly know about him.

"You've been outside for a while. I can tell because I can't smell the house on you." He considered for a moment. "But you haven't been working up a sweat like Rahne and Jubilee." He grumbled softly. "Them I can smell from here."

Kurt giggled at him.

"Don't interrupt." Wolverine told him. "But you do smell like Jean and Rogue – who I know don't hang out together – so I'm guessing you've been playing go between."

Kurt cocked his head to one side and let his jaw hang in a mild and amused amazement. "Dat vas incredible."

Wolverine chuckled. "So playing middleman for those two has brought you here to me – and unless I miss my guess – even if you turn around and walk away right now – this is gonna come up again, like at dinner, right?"

"Uh, probably?" Kurt winced in admittance.

"So make it quick and I'll try to forget it ever happened." 

"Keep it a secret – don't mention I asked – to anybody?" Kurt closed the distance between them conspiratorially.

Wolverine considered. "So long as it's none of anybody else's business." He agreed at last.

"Agreed." Kurt said, reaching out and pumping Logan's hand. He eyed Logan warily. "Do you ever have nightmares about falling, maybe off a building or fire escape? In the rain?"

Wolverine looked to be at a total loss for words. He searched the Elf's face for any sign of recognition. There was none.

"You don't, do you?" Kurt could read him however, just fine. "I can't believe it." He shook his head in confusion.

"What's this about?" Wolverine wanted to reach out and grab Kurt by the arm. He had a feeling Kurt was about to vanish and make him get out of the hammock to find out what was going on.

"Rogue thinks she was having someone else's dreams last night." Kurt explained.

"Oh." Wolverine felt himself suddenly relax. "Is that all?" He smiled. 

Kurt shrugged. "Jean had the same dream too." He supplied.

Wolverine yawned and leaned back in the hammock, pulling his hat back down over his eyes. "Someone was probably just broadcasting their dreams telepathically or something." He reasoned. 

"But not you?" Kurt had to be sure. 

"Nope. Used to have a falling memory dream, out of a helicopter and in to the Mediterranean." He smacked his lips and began to drift off to sleep. "Not for years though." He supplied. "Black ops. Sunset. No rain. Don't like to talk about it." He said softly.

"No problem." Kurt said softly. "Thanks."

He backed away slowly, smiling to himself. _And I'll come get you for dinner. . ._ He promised, while silently locking Wolverine's Mediterranean confession away in his mental vault.

Kurt retraced his steps across the lawn, listening as Wolverine began to snore softly behind him.

"So who's memory _is_ it?" He wondered out loud. And then it occurred to him – maybe he was going about this all wrong. Maybe the answer wasn't in the dream. Maybe it was in the date.

"De same dream – every year." He whispered quietly.

And he vanished, smiling at the possibility, in to a cloud of brimstone and smoke.


	9. The Secret Ch9 Scott and Beast

The Secret

Chapter Nine: Scott and Beast

Scott flipped through the pages of the old book. No one had added anything new this year. And for some reason it irked him _Don't they get it?_ He wondered. _How lucky we all really are?_

He shook his head, almost sadly. He loved Thanksgiving. It was everyone's holiday. It didn't have the religious segregation that Christmas did. Of course, it had some Native American political facets that he didn't care for – but the ideal, like Xavier's dream – was very close to his heart.

He wandered slowly through the halls of the mansion, back to his beloved photographs.

And there stood Xavier, smirking, in his long black trench coat. _Like he knows something I don't_. He thought. And briefly he wondered what that might be. _Like he's up to something_. He almost laughed out loud at himself. Some people are just above suspicion.

He shrugged to himself and looked out the far window. _Surely there had to be another way to spend a day like this one. _He cast a glance toward the door and found himself heading out of the mansion.

Scott strolled across the lawn towards the Basketball court. He could hear the steady thump of the ball on the pavement.

He rounded the corner just in tome to see the Beast slam it through the hole. 

"Nice." He told him.

Beast let loose a wide grin. "Feel up to a game?" He palmed the ball and held it up over his head. "Little man?"

Scott smirked. The Beast had never tried to rile him up before. He shrugged. "Maybe. I've got some time to kill while Jean catches a quick nap."

Beast began to dribble slowly and methodically. "Do you have that effect on all women of just Jean?" He eyed Scott carefully, looking for a response.

"What is it up with you today?" Scott asked him.

"Trash-talk." Beast informed him. "Vital to a good street game." He passed the ball between his legs and shot, sinking it from mid-court. "And besides, it's not like Magneto or Mystique are above running a mouth game on you from time to time. Might make good practice." He told him, recovering the ball.

Scott seemed to consider this for a moment.

"And a good _beat-down_ might humble you up a bit." Beast said, cocking his head side to side with every new word.

"The only thing that needs beating around here is you, ya throw rug." Scott snatched the ball and drove up court. Beast tried to cover and stopped him, but Scott still managed to sink a two point shot.

"Not bad." Beast smirked. "Who's grandmother are you again?"

Scott shot him a curious look as he recovered the ball. _Oh, so it's gonna be like that, is it?_ And he fired the ball to the Beast, intent on taking him down.

In the distance, Jubilee, having changed in to her red top and blue-jean shorts, was stalking around the property with one of the largest super-soakers ever made, having switched diversions when Rahne curled up and went to sleep in the sun – and near Wolverine in his hammock.

Little did she know, that Bobby was chilling a 'soaker' of his own while he lay in wait, and Jamie (Multiple Man) had them both surrounded, all on his own.

While, upstairs in the mansion, Rogue had already discovered the hidden truth about the memory-dreams. A truth she would now have to lie to protect.

And, as if that wasn't bad enough, dinner was still well over an hour away.


	10. The Secret Ch10 Rogue and Xavier

The Secret

Chapter Ten: Rogue and Xavier

"Are you sure?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at Rogue.

"Sure am. Got a real handle on that memory now. Saw my own – or more over – his own reflection." She lied.

"And you're sure, it's the Juggernaught's memory?" Kurt hesitated.

"Ah sure am, and I don't think we should mention it to Jean or the Professor. Neither one needs to be spending Thanksgiving dwelling on that creep." She put her hands on her hips and looked him in the eye.

"Agreed." He said at last. "But …"

"But what?" She looked for holes in her deception.

"Didn't you say that he levitated down in to a creek?" Kurt asked. "How did the Juggernaught levitate?"

"He didn't" She dropped her eyes and took a breath. "You know how, sometimes, in the danger room, time seems to slow down, especially in fights?" She was out on a limb.

"Oh, sure." Kurt smiled. "I've seen this happen."

"Well, that's what happened to Marko. Time slowed down before he hit the ground is all, from his perspective, anyway."

Kurt shrugged ."Oh vell, another mystery solved." 

"Meddling kid." She smiled slyly at him.

"He-he-he-He-He-he." He laughed like Scooby Doo and bamphed away.

Rogue smiled as he went. She had been hoping she could convince him to drop it. Especially after hearing what he had to say about the date being the key to the mystery. Kurt was right on track. If he had sat down at a computer he could have found the answer on the internet.

Just as she had – not an hour ago.

Rogue eased up to the door of the Professor's private study. She knocked softly.

"Yes?" He answered from within.

She opened the door and side-stepped in, closing it behind her. "Professor? Can we talk?"

"Kurt bothering you again?" He ventured.

"Actually, " She brought herself up short. "No. Kinda the opposite really." 

Xavier raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"There's worse things a girl could have than a pest of a little brother looking out for her all the time." She admitted softly, to herself as much as to Xavier.

Xavier leaned back and locked a steady gaze on her. This was quite a change in her personality and he knew it.

"And what exactly brought about this observation?"

"Personal responsibility." She said, sitting down and getting comfortable in one of his fine red-leather chairs. "He was trying to help me out and he almost discovered something he shouldn't have."

"Shouldn't have?" He said quickly, prompting her to speak.

"That's right." She smiled coyly. "Course, I had to stop him from finding out – and in the process I did figure it out for mahself." There was s soft, knowing light behind her eyes.

Xavier could feel the bottom dropping out of his stomach. For the first time all day, he _wasn't_ hungry. 

"What? What is it?" His concern was genuine, but who it was for was indeterminable.

"Well, Ah found out about a boy who was going to lose his inheritance." She began. "Who had to start a business of his own and succeed brilliantly in a very short time. And when he did, his step-brother robbed him blind so that he couldn't prove his success and claim his inheritance."

Xavier's mouth was hanging open. 

"And so, on Thanksgiving eve, just two days before his proof was due at the lawyers . . ."

Xavier was holding up his hand, and embarrassed smile on his face. "Okay, just stop."

"You boarded a plane, from an airline who your mother was heavily invested in . . ."

Xavier returned his hands to his lap and smiled pleasantly, as there was, obviously, no stopping her.

"And you held it hostage for two-hundred thousand dollars – before you tied the money to your waist and jumped from the back of the plane."

He was smiling so serenely that she thought for a moment that she was wrong or mistaken.

"You're . . " She began.

He nodded.

"You're . . ." She swallowed.

"It's okay." He smiled at her. "You can say it."

"You're D.B. Cooper. Aren't you."

And Xavier nodded once before he flashed a wide and guilty grin.

"Really, Rogue, You must tell me how you figured it all out." He said at last.

"Sure." She relaxed down in to the chair. "We've got an hour to kill before dinner. And while I'm at it, Ah'll explain why you can't just make me forget it, you know, like you did to Jean." She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

And she realized that the smile had fallen from his face.


	11. The Secret Ch11 Cooper and Marie

The Secret

Chapter Eleven: Cooper and Marie

Rogue sat across the desk, grinning triumphantly.

"It began with Jean, Mah story does, anyway." Her skin crawled ever so slightly. She was reminding herself of Mystique – feeling like a portrait of indulgent ego_. But what the hell_, she thought, _I deserve this one._

"She has a re-occurring nightmare, once a year. All she remembers is falling through the sky, scared, and then, a bit of running on the ground, away from the lights in the distance."

The Professor nodded, absorbing this fact.

"And this year, I had that same nightmare. Probably because of when I absorbed Jean in that Mezmero incident." (In Vacancy by Remedy=Chill)

Again, Xavier nodded.

"But I remember different parts of the dream than she does. I remember the stairs on the back of the plane. I remember slipping off, and grabbing the handrail."

"And letting go, foolishly?" He asked, slightly amused at his own foibles.

"Instinctually." She shrugged once. "Whatever."

Xavier sat back and relaxed, just a bit.

"Jean thinks it's Wolverine's memory, like from when he was young." She saw Xavier register his confusion. "Apparently you reminded her of Logan, sometimes." She smiled at him.

And he melted just a bit.

"But Kurt managed to eliminate him as a suspect." She seemed to beam with pride. "He's very personable."

"Perhaps overly so." Xavier sighed, betraying his emotional stress.

"Naw." She waved her hand dismissively. "Ah told him it was Cain Marko's memory – and that no one needed his name brought up again on Thanksgiving. Ah think he'll drop it now."

"Very imaginative." He folded his hands in his lap.

"Not really. You see, Scott took me down to your book today – and told me the story of your inheritance clause. And when he left, and I went to look through the book, I had a flash of Cain's memory from the last time we fought."

Xavier looked both, concerned and distressed. "Was it violent?" He asked. "Cain has so much rage."

"He, ah, was laughing actually, at you. About clearing out your safe."

She watched his distress melt away. "I'm glad. " He said finally. "I find Cain's mind …"

"Uncomfortable." Rogue supplied.

"To be kind, yes, uncomfortable. Please continue."

"And I just knew that he had stolen your money before you could show it to the lawyers."

"He did indeed." Xavier nodded "At the bequest of his father."

"And left you high and dry." 

"Falling and wet." He corrected. "My mother was a majority share holder in the airline, her estate I mean. And when I took possession of the estate I did make restitution to the airline – under the guise of a wealthy benefactor who agreed with the decision to settle the incident peacefully."

"And that worked?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I wrote a very nice letter." He explained.

"Ah." Rogue giggled and kicked her feet absently.

Xavier had never seen her so relaxed. She had a quality he found it difficult to name.

"And downstairs, in the small library alcove, there's a picture of you, in a long black coat, standing in line at the Portland airport."

Xavier was chuckling softly to himself as she spoke. He loved that picture, smirking in to the camera. It was the last picture he had of himself with any hair.

Rogue laughed too. It was funny. "Right at the gate no less." She supplied, forcing him to chuckle all the more.

"And written across the bottom – Of all things owed …"

" … To family." He finished. "I thought, when I wrote that, that it had been my fifteen minutes of fame." He seemed to be staring back in time and not seeing her at all. "I really thought … All the excitement and adventure …"

"Were over." She finished for him, bringing him back to the moment. "Life's like that – surprising – with a wet and slippery last step." 

"Indeed." He agreed wholeheartedly.

"And once I figured out the that date was they key, everything else just fell in to place with one Yahoo search. Well, mostly." She confessed.

Xavier leaned forward. "What escapes you at this point?"

"The name for starters – you told them Dan Cooper."

"Yes. And there was a Daniel B Cooper – who lived in Portland at the time. He was the man who my stepfather retained to steal the current copy of my mother's will. He then produced the older version with the business clause – which he was determined to sabotage."

Rogue nodded, letting the idea soak in.

"So you were turning them in on themselves." She said at last.

"As a distraction. I had to insure that they didn't suspect I was the Airline Extortionist until it was too late."

"But you took two hundred thousand, and all you needed was one hundred and fifty." She eyed him warily. "Why?"

He pursed his lips. "Ego. Mostly. I wanted as much as they took from my safe." He grinned at himself distractedly. "I had NO idea how heavy an extra fifty thousand in rain soaked twenties could be. I couldn't carry it all out." He shook his head. "I burnt some for warmth before the night was out, and buried a lot more as I stopped to rest." He looked tired of keeping the secret. "I was always afraid that someone would find it."

"Someone did." She supplied.

"Oh, that kid who found the $5800 dollars? That was what didn't burn in my fire pit. No one ever found the rest." He shook his head. "Then, a few years later, Mount St. Helen's erupted and covered the area with molten rock. And that's when I stopped worrying about the money being found."

"Okay, so how did Jean get the memory?"

"Mount St. Helen's again." He exhaled slowly. "Jean was here, in her coma, when the eruption occurred. I was conducting daily eight-hour sessions in trying to contact her. When I went to bed that night, after the eruption, I slept more soundly then I had in years. And I recalled the memory, as more than a dream, as a full psychic projection. I connected to that time, to that younger Xavier, and I relived the experience."

"And Jean?"

"I'm not sure if it was the proximity to the psychic event – to me, at the time, or if it was because I spent so much time and energy trying to reach her, that when I relived the event, it simply went in her direction." He grimaced. "When she recovered from the coma, some several months later, I never expected to be receiving a Thanksgiving Day call from her parents – talking about the nightmare she insisted 'really happened'. As you can guess, I was shocked."

"And you told her to forget it."

"Yes." He agreed. "With the suggestion that she let her memories of the dream fade and that she retain no identifiable details."

"And she has this dream, every year, and forgets it all over again."

"So it would seem." He leaned in on his elbows. "I didn't know that until tonight." He considered her for a moment. "I almost hesitate to ask." He paused for a moment. "But why couldn't I just … help … you to forget about all this?"

"Three reasons actually." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Thanksgiving – 1975 – Charles Xavier –" She cleared her throat. "May I always be thankful when truth survives …"

"The storm." He mouthed the last words with anguish in his eyes. "That was the year Mutants were first mentioned in medical texts." He whispered harshly. "Under the title Degenerative Throwback Syndrome." The thought seemed to pain him and Rogue could feel the sadness that radiated off him.

"But the truth endured, didn't it?" She said softly. "You brought it through to us. And kept it safe."

His eyes shimmered with a light coat of tears. He had always tried. _Always._

"1982 – Charles Xavier – I am Thankful for every day that injury to any may be avoided."

A small soft light played behind his eyes. "That's still true." He whispered in a hushed tone.

"Ah know that Professor." She leaned in and took his hand across the desk. "We all do. All the main points you teach are written in that book down there." Rogue smiled, feeling the call for tears and a desperate need to finish.

"But _Ah_ _finish_ this story Professor." She smiled a forced smile. "This truth came to _me_, because of Mah powers. It's _Mah_ piece of _truth_, and I have to see that it endures, just because it's _true_." She wiped her left eye and pressed on. "And today, someone made a real good point. Ah don't think ah've ever lost anything I really needed. And I don't always consider what I've really got – cuz Ah'm afraid to lose it."

Xavier looked at her anew. She was hardly the true 'rogue' that he had seen when she arrived. He was finally looking directly at the girl beneath the mask.

"Well, today Ah looked Professor. Ah looked long and hard." She had a hard look to her as she said it and he believed her. "And the things I saw aren't going anywhere." She began to count off her fingers. "Kurt wants to be Mah brother. Like as in, _family_. For _life_." She looked imploringly at him.

"And Scott." She continued. "You know Ah like Scott."

"Ah, yes, you do know, that he and Jean …"

"Ah know." She shook her head sadly. "But what Ah loved about him, it came from when I had to absorb his powers to defeat Mystique on that field trip when we got snowed in." She swallowed, the memory obviously vary strong in her mind. "When I touched him, he passed out. His mind raced in to mine, and I knew it was going to be full contact – the kind, the kind I can't handle."

She swallowed. "But when our minds touched, it was like his mind tried to stay out of my mind's way – and when his mind realized that he was in control and I wasn't, he looked her right in the face and told her – Don't mess with the Rogue. And he saved us Professor. He saved me, with Mah body and Mah eyes." 

She looked uncomfortable and began to speak quietly. "He's the only person Ah ever absorbed who ever looked out for me." She met his eyes. "_Ever_." She said. "Mah mother _included_." She swallowed hard and could taste the regret in the back of her throat. "And Ah haven't lost that just because he's with Jean now. Not really."

Xavier nodded once, in complete understanding.

"And you _can't_ take these things away from _me_." She told him. "And you cant let me keep them without keeping the lesson that showed it all to me." She squeezed his hand tightly. "Ah _need_ this secret _more_ than you do."

Xavier pressed his lips in to a sad and lonely smile. She was right of course. _And she did protect the secret already_. He told himself. _She came right to me …_

Her eyes shined, anew and alive. "Of all things owed to family – that just doesn't fit me like it does you. For me, it more like – Family, owed to, of all things …" She just smiled, sweetly, half over her shoulder.

"Then," He said at last, slowly, through a dry mouth, "I guess I shall see you at dinner."

A warmth and affection flared within her, and very quietly, while composing herself, she left the room; Her memories intact. 

Authors note: I wish to acknowledge the Real and Historical Daniel B Cooper of Portland who was investigated and cleared of all charges or involvement by the authorities of the day. "His" nefarious deeds – as I have portrayed them here – are of course my own fictional insertions – and not to be in any way attributed to the man as he existed.

And coming soon – Dinner!

-Remedy


	12. The Secret Ch12 Cooper's Heroes

The Secret

Chapter Twelve: Cooper's Heroes

Xavier closed his mind to all distractions and looked with his astral eyes over his entire estate.

He saw them all, coming from all sides of the mansion, toward the great house.

Jean was awake and showering upstairs, blissfully unaware that she had ever dreamt anything at all. Kurt, Rahne, and Wolverine were walking in together from the hammock on the far side of the yard. They were talking about Logan's first Thanksgiving at the mansion.

It made Xavier smile.

Scott and Beast were laughing together, in the infirmary.

He paused for a moment but their jovial attitude told him – nothing was really wrong.

Jubilee was asleep on a lounge chair on the back porch. She was dreaming about Twinkies. Jamie was upstairs, combing his hair. And Bobby was already waiting outside the dining room – but the caterers wouldn't let him in yet.

Storm had just arrived from visiting her family – this would be her second dinner today – luckily, flying builds up an appetite. 

And then, there was Rogue. She was upstairs, on one of the computers, burning a c.d. 

He slowed down the image of her in his mind so that he could see, in the astral light she radiated, all the scenes of her thoughts and memories as she experienced them.

He saw her falling off the last step of the plane, laughing at him as Cain, and watching Scott, as he prowled the library – looking at the photographs on the walls.

__

He would never have understood. She thought. _Too big a boy scout._

Xavier smiled. She was probably right.

The scene changed. He was seeing Jean as Rogue saw her. It was a dark view. Rogue seemed to see something vain and hollow about Jean that most others did not. But it escaped Xavier's notice as he heard her adding thoughts to the memory.

__

He was right to hide it from her too. Rogue seemed to sneer mentally. _Too impressed with herself._

And Xavier wondered, briefly, if that was true. After all, _Rogue has proved herself to be quite observant._

The mental landscape changed again. This time she was thinking of Xavier. She was imagining him sitting, in the classic pose of The Thinker, on the back stairs of the airplane, with the storm raging outside.

__

Professor Charles Xavier. She thought to herself. _An American folk hero_. She seemed to beam with pride. _Whose been looking out for me since before Ah was born …_

And Xavier pulled back his mind, to leave her with her thoughts, regretting – all the while – that he even had to check – to see that she truly wished to keep his secret.

Xavier rolled his chair over the fine decorative rug. Beast opened the door as he approached. "Charles? Dinner."

Xavier looked up in to Beasts face. His left eye was bruised and swollen shut. "Hank, what happened." 

"Found some trouble." He grinned, and stepped aside to that the Professor could pass.

"Ah, who had it?" Xavier coasted in to the next room.

"Scott of all people." Hank smiled. "He kept it with his basketball deficiency."

"Street rules?" Xavier smiled.

"Naturally." He showed off his eye.

"How's Scott?"

"All taped, and stitched back together."

"Stitched?" Xavier smiled. "Really?"

"Me too." Beast showed him a round shaved spot on his elbow with three stitches.

Xavier smiled. "So I suppose all my children will sleep well tonight?" He prodded.

"Like a baby, I promise." Beast took hold of his chair and rolled it through to the dining room.

Xavier gasped as he entered.

The table was perfect. The fine china was laid out with gold tone silverware and crystal glasses. The centerpieces were traditional Thanksgiving displays – surrounded with gold and blue candles, all of which were already burning. Covered dishes of food steamed at their edges as they sat about the table. In the middle, three great birds sat separately, each under it's own large silver hood.

The door at the far end of the room opened. It was Logan Rahne, and Kurt.

"Incredible." Kurt breathed.

"Fantastic." Rahne agreed, breathless.

Xavier and Logan exchanged smiles at the kids reactions.

Rogue eased in to the room right behind Scott and Jean, who were walking hand in hand. She eased down toward Xavier.

"Something for later." She said, slipping the c.d. she carried in to the pocket on the side of his chair. She then took a seat, directly to his right.

"Kurt." She smiled at him and pushed out the chair to her right.

He smiled softly, as though he was afraid he might wake up. He sat down, dreamily letting his eyes dance over the table and it's many treasures.

Rogue was unfolding her napkin and laying it in her lap. When she looked up, Hank had taken the seat opposite her, and Logan was seated at the far end of the table, facing Xavier.

And one by one, the chairs filled with students, until there were none left.

The Professor cleared his throat and everyone turned his attention to his end of the table.

"I know it would be truly inhumane to ask you to wait much longer for this fine meal before us." He smiled. "But we have a few traditions here at the mansion – and this is one of them." He smiled. "However, it's not mandatory that you participate, as some of us are rather shy." 

Almost everyone seemed to be looking at Jamie, and he shrunk down in to his chair.

"What are you most Thankful for Hank?" Xavier asked.

Hank smiled, looking beaten and swollen. "I've _still_ got _game_." He chuckled to himself.

"You wish." Scott huffed, unfolding his napkin. Xavier noticed for the first time that Scott had eight or more stitches running along his cheek.

"What was that Scott?" Hank singled him out. 

"What was the score?" Scott asked him flippantly. "Thirty two to what?"

"It was Twenty Three Scott. Twenty Three to Twenty Seven. You've got a concussion. Cope." Beast said absently as he peeked under a dish at some corn on the cob. Xavier smacked his hand lightly and everyone laughed.

"Oh." Scott said from down the table. "Then I'm Thankful that next time I'll know what I'm getting in to."

"Show's he's learning." Hank said to Xavier.

"He's got a coach now." Jean told Beast. "Someone who _knows_ the game."

"Maybe they could give you some pointers while they're at it Red." Beast clicked his finger, like a gun at Jean.

Jean in turn began to shake with frustration. (She had obviously meant that She would coach Scott.) Scott smiled dreamily and laid his hand on her wrist. "He's trying to rile you." He whispered. "Calm down."

Bobby and Rogue exchanged amused glances.

"Well, I for one am Thankful for you Charles." Storm said slowly, still not in a rush to eat. "And for everything I see you do for everyone around you."

Logan raised his eyes to meet Storms, and he raised his water glass to her. "Here's to that." He said, and everyone took their glasses and drank to the idea.

"Kurt?" Logan looked down the table at him.

"You all know." He said bashfully. "For my life, here, as an X-Man."

And half the faces at the table lit up in agreement.

"Rogue?" Kurt spun his head and looked at her. 

She could feel all the eyes of the room upon her. "Ah can't say fur sure." She hesitated. "Ah think sometimes, that Ah'm Thankful to be trusted and accepted." She looked focused yet relaxed.

"And today I was thinking about all the good things that happen – that we just never see or know about – You know? – Like all the sacrifices and victories that go unsung?" She looked like she might tear up – she obviously meant it. "Because Ah find mahself Thankful for that stuff sometimes." She smiled, looking over the wall of understanding and familiar faces. 

"But today," She said, "Today I was most Thankful for all of it – The whole narrative of mah life." She smiled at them all. "Because it brought me here." And she was sure of it as she said the words "And I wouldn't change a minute of any of it, good or bad, because it brought me _here_."

And somehow they all seemed to know that she had said enough for everyone. And the lids departed their dishes and platters, and the room began to overflow with the scent, sounds, and warmth of Thanksgiving.


	13. The Secret Ch13 The Epilogue

Epilogue:

Professor Xavier sat, listening to the sounds of the sleeping house. He put the c.d. in to the player and closed the lid. He spread the headphones and put them over his ears. The song was D.B. Cooper by Todd Snider

****

"D.B. Cooper was 43 when we first heard his name."

__

Was not. He thought.

****

"47 miles away from where he fell down to his fame."

Xavier smiled.

****

"But he told me that the hardest part wasn't really jumping out of the plane."

****

"It was spending the night, watching those lights, shine through the pouring rain."

He closed his eyes and listened to the folksy ballad. 

****

"They had a manhunt that next morning like nothing I had ever seen,

I was only eight years old at the time – watching on a TV screen.

They said he was never gonna make it now, now that daylight had set in.

But later that night, they were shining those lights, down on the mountain again."

Xavier let the music sweep over and through him as though it were Bach or Mozart.

"The cops blocked off all the exit roads and turned loose all of the hounds,

They even dragged the river a couple of times – to see if he had drowned.

With all of those men working overtime they swore they would bring him down"

He felt his humor rising through him, and a flush of embarrassment, at having been caught by Rogue.

****

"But a parachute and a few hundred dollars, Was all that they ever found."

Xavier laughed out loud, despite himself.

****

"Now some people say that he died up there somewhere in the rain and the wind. Other people say that he got away – but his girlfriend did him in. – The lawman say – if he is out there – someday they're gonna bring him in."

He smiled knowingly, in a great relief, that it was no longer just his secret.

****

"As for me, I hope they never see, D. B. Cooper again."

He let the horns in the song envelope him. _Unsung_? He thought to himself. _Hardly_.

****

"Not far away" 

Xavier wheeled himself down the hall and around the corner toward the library. He stopped short, and wheeled himself backwards and out of sight. _Someone's signing the book_. He realized.

"From the City of Roses" 

A soft noise echoed down the hall. And he detected the faint trace of sulfur in the air. When he looked again, the hall was empty.

"A light shined from a house" 

He wheeled his way down the hall and pulled up in front of the book.

"Out in the rain."

Kurt had flipped the pages after he signed it. Xavier flipped them back. "I am forever Thankful, " He had written "That persistence really does pay off. – And that my sister – finally seems to have come home."

"It was D.B. Cooper."

Xavier smiled, slyly, and he closed the book, then pulled the glass case over it, and locked it with a small silver key

"Drinking champagne."


	14. The Secret Ch14 The Hidden Track

Kurt smiled as he poked his head out from behind the large red curtain.

"Hello" He waved nervously to the readers.

"I've been asked to clear up a few things about our show tonight." He smiled. "You know? Point out the clues."

The readers sighed appreciatively.

"First off, ve had the date – Thanksgiving. Dis vas a big one." Kurt relaxed just a little seeing how the readers were listening attentively.

"Another good clue came from Bobby when he vas flipping channels. The news was talking **_about the anniversary of the daring 1971_** … Then it cut off, remember?" Kurt let his head tilt to one side as the audience murmured to themselves.

"And really, those two clues – Thanksgiving and 1971 should have been enough to let the Internet find Cooper's name for you."

"But there were more." Kurt grinned. "The photo of Xavier placed him at gate 52 of the Portland International Airport – The same gate and origin of Coopers flight. Dis vas the picture that Xavier **_said Was one of the last ones had had of himself with any hair_**. Remember? Vell feel free to compare that description to the police sketch of Cooper – I'm sure you can find it online."

Kurt smiled. He felt like he was getting good at explaining things – and over his fear of audiences.

"Really, it's a vonder that Xavier wasn't caught way before now." Kurt continued. "I mean, really, it's just a little hair!"

The audience laughed appreciatively.

And Xavier rolled his chair up on to the stage behind Kurt.

"It's like Superman and the glasses, right? I mean, come off it." Kurt smirked and the readers began chuckling slyly at Xavier's expression.

"I mean, honestly, to think that you could get away with something like …"

But Kurt hesitated as Xavier closed his own eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples.

And, suddenly, Kurt's eyes flew open

He looked scared, nervous, and out of place. "Ahhh, so this concludes our program for this evening, thank you and goodnight!"

****

Bamph!

He vanished in to a cloud of smoke.

And Xavier turned his attention toward the readers. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes; his hands still on his temples…

And you began to forget why you were reading this. 

You have no interest in D.B. Cooper.

In fact, you don't even recognize the name, let alone … the man.


End file.
